Abuse
by Signusorion
Summary: Spain/Romano.  Human AU.  Romano and Spain are in an abusive relationship.  In which Spain is abused.  Yep.  Also, it's srs.


**Author's note: Human AU. This is srs bsn****s. ಠ_ಠ But really, sorry if Lovino sounds a bit OOC in the beginning. It's all in Spain's head...mostly...maybe.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters.**

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Antonio had always dreamed of becoming someone famous, or at least a bit more well-known than was normal. He had had many dreams, much of them involving a wife who greeted him with a smile whenever he came home from work. In his dreams, the smiling wife seemed to make everything worth it.

So he worked as hard as he could to get a real job, one where working overtime every day didn't seem too strange.

Soon enough, his friends from work would invite him out to bars or restaurants. The time he spent at home lessened even more.

It just so happened that he met Lovino Vargas on one of these outings. The curl that defied gravity had been the first thing to catch his attention, and soon, after a few drinks, he had worked up the courage to go talk to him. That first meeting had gone surprisingly well, and he had been surprised at how much of it he could recall.

Like that faint lilting of an accent, Italian if he had guessed correctly, or how whenever the other man had smiled, a pretty little blush would accompany it.

Antonio decided quickly that he liked many things about Lovino Vargas, especially his smiles. Before the opportunity passed up, he asked him for his phone number, hoping to god that those drinks hadn't made him sound like a rambling drunk.

Confirmation that they hadn't was soon sent in the form of Lovino Vargas smiling again, and the exchange of contact information.

He woke up the next day thinking it was all a dream, but the information in his phone said otherwise. He couldn't help but stare at the dimming screen of his cellphone with a warm feeling building up inside him. He went through the rest of the day in a happy daze, barely paying attention to what he was doing.

His friend, Francis Bonnefoy, gave him the usual advice of not calling until the third day was past, but Antonio just couldn't wait. That night, he curled up on his couch and stayed up talking to Lovino.

Soon enough, his cellphone became his most prized possession: his link to the Italian whom he was feeling so smitten with. Their dates always seemed to be perfect, and Lovino was fast becoming the best thing that he had ever happened upon.

Of course, as with many things about Antonio, his feelings were mentioned at a random moment.

"Yeah, the economy isn't doing too well these days.."

"I love you, Lovino Vargas!"

It took a while for the confusion to clear up, but in the end, Lovino had revealed that his feelings weren't all too different. They decided to move in together.

And, in Antonio's memories, this was where things started getting a bit hard to remember, when the happy moments blurred in so much with the bad ones that he couldn't even distinguish them anymore.

He remembered a short period of joy and ease where he had helped Lovino move his things in, and the Italian had smiled at him all the time. He remembered some nights where he had fallen asleep watching Lovino's sleeping face.

And then, there was a sudden tense feeling in the air. Even Antonio, who had been voted in high school the least likely to ever read the atmosphere, could notice the absence of smiles on Lovino's face, the short, curt replies, and the fact that Lovino gave him a weird look whenever he came home late.

One night, it seemed, Lovino just snapped.

* * *

Antonio groggily put his keys into the lock, wondering why he had even agreed to go out with his friends. He fumbled for a moment before he managed to finally open the door.

Quickly, he remembered to be quiet because Lovino was probably still asleep. The sight that greeted him as soon as he walked in corrected that.

Lovino sat on the couch, looking at Antonio in a strange way.

"Pretty late, huh?" Lovino asked, his tone not sounding too delighted.

Antonio just nodded, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah, Francis and Gilbert just love keeping me out late!" Antonio exclaimed, trying his best to sound energetic as he turned to hang his coat on the hanger. "You ate dinner already, si? Don't want you going hungry because of me."

He felt a hand clamped down on his shoulder and suddenly, he was spun around to face Lovino.

The noise that Lovino's fist made when it connected with the side of his face rang in his ears even before the pain set in.

Antonio stared down at him in disbelief.

"Y-you punched me," he stammered, rubbing his cheek.

"No shit, Sherlock," Lovino said weakly, looking as if he was already regretting it.

They stared at each other for a bit more, and Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio's waist.

"I'm sorry. I-it won't happen again! I just had a long day, and you're always home so late. I'm sorry, really! Just come home earlier, and I won't do it again. Please!" Lovino sobbed into his shirt, babbling, pleading.

Antonio felt cold inside, but he nodded slowly and murmured, "It's okay."

At this, Lovino instantly looked up and touched the side of his face. Antonio tried his best not to flinch away.

"It looks like it might bruise. Maybe you should take a day off tomorrow. We wouldn't want to make your _friends_ get the wrong idea."

Swallowing any of his retorts that might provoke Lovino, Antonio nodded again.

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**...**

**So uh, thanks and review~**


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